Before It Gets Better
by guineapiggie
Summary: "You didn't call when you sent me the damn papers to sign," she hisses, because anger is a lot easier to handle than pain, and anything that will make him hang up more quickly means she won't have to feel the way her heart clenches at the sound of his voice. [PREQUEL TO "COLD COFFEE"; modern AU; all-out angst; rated for language]


**Before It Gets Better**

 **DISCLAIMER:** I don't own a thing.

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 _Prequel to "Cold Coffee", again inspired by JustKeepOnTheGrass's "Emergency Contact".  
Inspired by the song "Miss Missing You" by Fall Out Boy (see title and lyrics at the end)._

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.

Jyn never thought she could be one of those girls who randomly start spiraling just because of some ridiculous little detail, weeks and _weeks –_ three months, damn it, three _whole months -_ after a break-up.

The thing that causes her breakdown is a missing 'r' in a letter from her lawyer.

So maybe, she is one of those girls after all.

But she knows what this letter means the moment she realises it starts with _Dear Ms. Erso,_ and even though she knew he filed for those goddamn documents and she signed them –

She didn't think anything could feel more final than sealing the envelope that contained her signed divorce papers, but once again being addressed as _Ms. Erso_ instead of _Mrs. Erso…_ that actually _is_ worse.

She shoves her half-eaten dinner away, gets to her feet, sits back down. Wills the tears to stay where they are. The light in the room slowly starts to fade and she can't bring herself to turn on the lights, even when the twilight turns to darkness.

.

She isn't quite sure how long she's sat there when her phone rings. The caller ID is a gut punch.

She wants nothing more than to switch off the phone and lick her wounds in peace – or at least, that's what the rational part of her brain wants. The one that knows how much the alternative will hurt.

But she hasn't read the letter, it's probably the bill, if he has to discuss this with her she can't ignore him…

She takes a deep breath, then another, tests the sound of her voice before she takes the call.

"Hello."

"Hi."

It's been a while since she's heard his voice – the last time being an incident several weeks ago that she would chose to forget if she could; wherein she got piss drunk and dialled his number at four in the morning. It stings to hear it again.

"Did you get mail today?" he asks.

"Yes. Didn't read it yet," she replies, because she's not going to admit she never got past the first line.

"It's just formalities. A reminder to get your passport changed if you changed your name back, that sort of thing."

She hates and loves him for the fact he knows she won't read it later, all at once.

"Okay. So why are you calling?"

There's a pause. "I wanted to know if you're okay."

Her eyes start to burn again. "Yes. Fine."

"Jyn – you can… you can talk to me. I know you're not fine. I'm not."

"You didn't call when you sent me the fucking papers to sign," she hissing, because anger is a lot easier to handle than pain, and anything that will make him hang up more quickly means she won't have to feel the way her heart clenches at the sound of his voice.

"No, I didn't. But now it's done. It feels final, doesn't it?"

"Are you going to talk to me about fucking _closure_ right now? Because if you are, fuck off."

He sighs a little. "No. I didn't call you to lie to you, why would I bother? I want to know you're okay, that's all."

"I'm okay."

He is silent, and she wonders if she should just hang up. It would be rude, and cruel, and totally unfair, but damn it, this probably shouldn't hurt as much as it does and she doesn't know how to handle it.

"I'm not trying to hurt you. If you don't want to talk to me, you don't have to."

"Good," she says – and can't find the strength to hang up after all. She gets to her feet, walks around the room a little, then sits down on the floor in a corner, hugs her knees to her chest, and stares at the floor.

"I don't know if we should talk at all, Jyn," he says quietly, "but I don't think I can get any worse right now, and I thought it was worth a try. Kay is worried about me, can you imagine?" he asks with a small, humourless laugh. "I'm making work hard for everyone, and I don't think talking to you can make me snap out of it, but I might not get another excuse to call you and I…"

His voice trails off, and Jyn runs her sleeve over her eyes.

"I was thinking today that… I missed you too when we were together, you know?" she says, slowly. "But that was, it was… that was okay, that was kind of nice actually. It wasn't, it didn't feel like… it wasn't something that dragged me down, it was like a reminder that there's some kind of future to come. And I _miss_ that, I _miss_ missing you in a way that doesn't make me feel empty and stupid."

"Yes," comes very quietly from the other end of the line. "I miss that too."

"And the thing is, even if we'd… I'm not sure we could ever have that back."

"Jyn. It'll get better," he says softly, after a moment. "It will. And we will have that back, some day. It just takes time."

She rests her head on her knees and grips the phone a little firmer. "I feel like it's just getting worse."

There's a little chuckle at the other end. "Yes. But maybe this is the kind of thing that has to get worse before it can get better."

"You're just throwing phrases at this point, aren't you?"

"If that's a comfort, I tell myself these phrases, too," he says quietly, and Jyn smiles a little against the phone even though she feels like crying.

"Okay. Guess we're good at living by the same lies," she mutters and leans her head against the wall.

"Jyn?" His voice has gone very quiet.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

He doesn't say for what, and he doesn't have to. (They never meant to do this to each other.)

The tears are running freely at this point. She doesn't bother to wipe them away. "I know. So am I."

She wonders where he is right now. The way she knows him, still at the precinct, sitting at his desk over one more file and one more cup of coffee as always. She used to hate that image of him so much, but right now it is a strange comfort. It's a sort of stability – knowing that she will always find him there, no matter what, tired and silent in a shirt that needs ironing but with eyes that _see_ her.

No matter where she runs, he'll still be there if she comes back, whatever that means, after everything that has happened.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, Jyn."

She wants to tell him that she does, of course she does, but it would be a lie and it would desecrate this conversation – and she can't do that. She hasn't heard his voice like that in far too long, with something other than resignation and pain in it; she wouldn't dare tainting this moment.

"I'll try." She exhales, slowly, and adds: "Don't shut people out, Cassian. I know you're good at that, but it will make you miserable."

He scoffs. "I am miserable right now."

"Promise me."

He sighs. "Fine. I'll try." There is a long pause, then: "Are you going to be okay?"

"You said we will be. I believe you."

"I meant tonight. Maybe you should call -"

"I'll be alright. Don't worry." She paints patterns into the dust on the floor and adds softly: "Bodhi's already had to put up with this mess too much."

"I know, I just… I don't want you to be alone, either."

"I'll be alright," she repeats. "I'll have a tea or something. Watch a movie. Go to bed. Like a normal person."

She can hear his breathing, which she supposes is not a good sign. Her heart only clenches a little.

"Alright. Sleep well."

Like hell I will, she thinks. "Yeah. Go home, Cassian. It's late."

That sentence is followed by too long a pause, and she realises that he can't. Just like she can't go home. She could kick herself for saying that.

"Get out of that office for once," she clarifies, and he makes a noise that might be passed off as a laugh if she squints a little.

"Yes. You're right. Goodnight."

She takes a deep breath, braces herself, but the word hurts before it is out. "Goodbye."

She hangs up and leans her head back against the wall, staring at the stack of boxes in the corner.

 _Go home._

What business does she have telling him that, when she's so incapable of making one for herself that she can't even bring herself to unpack properly?

The starched paper on the table glows eerily in the moonlight.

.

(Jyn doesn't make tea, or try to find her DVDs in the boxes. She just sits there, staring at the letter, until her lids grow heavy, and she drags herself to her mattress and curls up under the covers fully dressed, and falls asleep.)

.

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 _Baby, you were my picket fence_  
 _I miss missing you now and then_  
 _Chlorine kissed summer skin_  
 _I miss missing you now and then_

.  
 _Sometimes before it gets better_  
 _The darkness gets bigger_  
 _The person you take a bullet for is_  
 _behind the trigger_

.  
 _Oh, we're fading fast_  
 _I miss missing you now and then_

 _._

 _._

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